


Glowing Golden

by swuunuu



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, ahoy, also more pairings, i'll add more characters as i add to the story, im letting my mind go as i write, please enjoy, what are outlines anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swuunuu/pseuds/swuunuu
Summary: Mingyu, Minghao, and the zombie apocalypse.“Where are we going?”“Wherever the wind blows, we follow.”“We have a compass—““Let’s chase the stars.”





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in gyuhao denial

“This is a good place,” Minghao ducks into the diner through the shattered window, “There’s no one here and we get gas.”  
****

Glass shards crunch under their feet, Mingyu stifles a whimper when he hears the howl of some wild animal in the distance. _Zombies are bad enough, but what if they get rabies from feral dogs? That’s another worst case scenario._

Things are obviously better after they got out of the city, away from the major hordes of infected, but they can’t let their guards down, not now. There are still far too many things that could take their lives in the wild.

Minghao settles down in one of the VIP rooms and starts flipping through the menu as if he’s some valued customer, “You should cook something, I miss eating warm stuff.” He looks up at Mingyu, batting his lashes for increased appeal. 

“Why are you so relaxed…” Mingyu murmurs, still a little shellshocked, “We literally just got out of a dead or alive situation, you know.” 

Indeed, they could’ve died back there if Minghao hadn’t started the engine fast enough, the cracked windshield and the numerous splatters of gore on the side of the pickup truck serves as a reminder for the both of them. 

_This isn’t a joke._

During the entire drive away from the city, Mingyu thought about the many alternate universes that has them making other decisions. What if they couldn’t make it to the car fast enough, would Minghao shove him into the starving pile of corpses or would he sacrifice himself for Mingyu to live? He’d watch the teeth sink into Minghao’s flesh, his arms, legs, everywhere. Maybe Minghao would scream, or maybe he’d smile, he’s really weird anyway. 

It just bothers him, to know that they could die at any given circumstances if they didn’t make the right choice in a split second. It really, really, bugs him, somehow. It’s like how you’re in a video game and you know that the system is trying to really fuck you up because the storyline needed you to. It’s unfair. 

But instead of knowing you’d be fine again after this section of the story, you know it’s not going to end. The struggle will be here, and you have about a hundred ways to lose your life if you’re not careful. 

Minghao quiets down, his eyes bearing deep into Mingyu’s. There’s something in those irises of his, but Mingyu couldn’t quite lay a finger on what it is. For a moment or so they stayed in silence, unsure of what to say in such an atmosphere. 

“…anyway,” Minghao says, withdrawing his gaze. Mingyu feels as if a stone has been lifted off his chest. “I want some spaghetti.” 

Even under these circumstances, Mingyu can’t help but baby Minghao. They’re a few months apart but the difference in their personalities is evident. Their views clash sometimes, but other than that, they’re a pretty functional duo. 

“I’ll go check if there’s any,” Mingyu hastily replies, opening a cupboard. They really shouldn’t be eating such nice food at the moment, but… it’ll be fine, right? 

Packets of spaghetti is found near a family of rats cowered deep inside the corner of a shelf, somehow untouched despite the rodents being nearby. Mingyu starts packing away cans of tomato soup, knowing that they’ll need it when the time comes. 

He hears Minghao shuffling outside, probably getting bored. They didn’t take the books from their hideout, which was a big regret. Maybe the Mingyu in another alternate universe would have suggested it and he’d hear Minghao move around less in the near future. 

“Tomato sauce and spaghetti, is that okay?” He says. 

Minghao’s reply comes after a split second, “You know I’d eat anything you cook, right?” 

_Wow_ , Mingyu feels a bit flustered.

It’s not hard to make spaghetti. But after months of simply prying open cans for a good meal, it feels like a damn chore. Break the pasta in half and wait for the miraculously-still-functional electrical stove to boil the water? _Annoying_. 

Still, it’s nostalgic to be able to cook for Minghao again. He remembers the many times when they’d both wake up in the middle of the night and start frying eggs with whatever they could find in the fridge. It’d always end up tasting bizarrely weird, but it’s the thought that counts. 

They had this light in their dorm that hung down from the ceiling near the kitchen counters. Mingyu always thought Minghao looked stunning under the yellowish glow. It softened the sharp corners of his face and highlighted his lashes. They fluttered whenever he blinked, and Mingyu gets mesmerised every time he watched it.

He never saw it again, the same light that embraced Minghao’s features.

Minghao perks up the moment he hears Mingyu leave the kitchen, a bit of sleep still in his eyes, “Oh… I’ve been wanting this my entire life.” He ruffles his hair and sits up, eager to get a taste of their gourmet supper. 

“This is literally pure spaghetti, I couldn’t find anything else as a side dish,” Mingyu says, stirring at the abundance of yellow and red.

Minghao is already forking at the middle of the pile, “Doesn’t matter.” He fishes up a large forkful and brings it to his lips, sniffing at the familiar scent of canned tomatoes. 

“This brings back memories,” he softly says, “Really…” 

Mingyu’s eyes sting a little when he watches Minghao swipe at his own, “Yeah…”

They both take a bite, and relish in the fact that they were lucky to have warm food during the apocalypse. 

“Seungkwan radioed me yesterday,” Minghao says.

Mingyu laughs into his bowl of spaghetti, “Was that the reason why you climbed onto the roof of the car in the middle of the night?”

“Look, that was for better reception,” his friend shoves another mouthful down his throat, “He says they found a safe haven further north, we’re heading the right way.”

“You know, you could’ve told me this in the morning, it would’ve started my day nicely.”

Minghao cups his cheeks and flashes an innocent smile, “Is looking at my face not enough?” 

“How scandalous,” Mingyu snorts, and they both burst out laughing.

They were originally travelling with 11 other people, Seungkwan was one of them. They got separated after an especially large horde of undead attacked.

“So, how was it, did the others make it?” 

“All of them did, so it’s just us now,” Minghao says, “Just us…” There’s something melancholic with the way he says it.

Mingyu takes ahold of his hand, “We’ll make it.” Minghao’s fingers are littered with all sorts of callouses, mostly from holding onto that nailed bat now resting in the backseat. He made it long before the apocalypse started, mostly because he was an edgy kid. But hey, it actually had its use. 

When Minghao swings that bat, the dull sounds that it’d make when it hits flesh always sends a shiver down Mingyu’s spine. 

“Yeah…” Minghao murmurs, tugging on the edge of his sleeve, “We’ll get there.” 

They keep their fingers intertwined as they finished off the food, their fingertips feeling equally chilly from the winter air.    

* * *

“Are you worried?” Mingyu whispers, curled up in the back of the storage room with their sleeping bag. 

Minghao slips in after him, their faces at a finger’s distance, “…not really, we did go a long way from where we began, we’ll make it.”

“Then why were you…” _being so weird just then?_

“It’s nothing,” he slaps a hand on Mingyu’s side, feeling the latter wince, “Just…” 

Their foreheads touch. Mingyu doesn’t move away from his advances. They’ve been so accustomed to one another that this shouldn’t be an issue anymore.

Minghao’s pools are deep, bottomless, almost. Mingyu quietly returns his gaze without uttering a word. 

It feels right to be this close to one another. There’s a sensation of comfort between them.

“Can I?” Minghao’s voice is low.

Mingyu leans into his touches, “Mhm…” _There’s nothing to lose._

Minghao’s lips are sweet, even though they ate nothing sugary for the entire day. They’re warm, too, and soft, like the patisserie rolls he’d see in that one French bakery across their old dorm. He always wanted to get one, but they’re too expensive to get past Mingyu’s self-control switch.

His hands scale down Minghao’s back, feeling every curve he has to offer. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” Minghao says, holding onto both sides of Mingyu’s face. 

“Really, me too,” Mingyu smiles, at least, he _tries_ to, with his cheeks squished, “I like you a lot, you know.” 

“Damn it,” Minghao kisses him again, “Why didn’t I do this earlier? We could’ve gone on a fuckin’ date before all this happened.” 

Mingyu laughs, but all he could hear were Minghao’s breathy grunts and his own wheezes, “Does… the spaghetti dinner count as one?” 

“I guess,” His friend slides a hand down his chest and Mingyu gasps, “We didn’t light a candle for the romantic atmosphere, though.”

“Do we even have a lighter…” Mingyu murmurs, guiding Minghao’s lips back onto his.

* * *

 If there’s a conclusion they could pull from this kissing ordeal, is that it’s fucking exhausting, but addicting at the same time. Mingyu finds himself asleep in the blink of an eye, nestled in Minghao’s arms.

He’s scared of tomorrow, but then again, he’s looking forward to what it’ll bring. What will they go through when the sun rises? If he wakes up early enough, will he see Minghao’s face glow golden again? 

_Who knows._

“Goodnight, Minghao.”

* * *

 Minghao quietly lifts his sleeve, pulling on it until it reaches the bend of his arm. There, below his wrist, lies the mark.

He can feel himself changing, bit by bit, to fit the category of being ‘dead’, yet he still feels alive. He runs his finger over the bumps of the scar, carving out every single mark each tooth had left on his skin.

It’s been months since he’s been bitten.

The process is surprising slow on him, like a timeless torture, where he feels nothing but the dread of waking up one day and find himself tearing into Mingyu’s body for flesh. 

He’s going to get Mingyu to the safe haven if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Then, he’ll leave, maybe, let his undead instincts take him wherever he needs to go. 

_But before then…_ he pulls Mingyu closer to his chest, hoping that he still has a heartbeat for Mingyu to listen to. _I’ll protect you._

His heart churns, yet flitters lightly with butterfly wings. Life mocks him in every way possible. 

_“This is so fucking bittersweet.”_


	2. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s called experimenting, Minghao’s certain, when Mingyu takes him by the wrist, and slowly guides his trembling fingers down the curves of his waist.   
> The car is hot, the air is hot, everything feels so goddamn hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me so long to write because i am procrastinating but here we go!!!

Mingyu hoarsely rasps for air, fingers digging into the base of Minghao’s wrists, eyes reflecting nothing but the bloodshot ones of the latter, “No, please…”

_His neck is so soft_ , Minghao notes, tightening his grip each time Mingyu exhales, shoving the poor victim to the ground. He straddles him, using all of his weight to render Mingyu motionless.

The hunger is starting to get to him, he’s losing control.

_This isn’t right_ , his conscience screams in his head, yet his body acts upon itself, following instincts that are purely animalistic. He can’t stop, not even when Mingyu submits and begs for his life, quietly whimpering under his breath for Minghao to let go.

A sweet scent wafts from Mingyu’s skin, and through every pore, Minghao can smell that sickeningly sugary fragrance, taking over all of his senses. He knows it means — food, it’s alive, it’s edible — _eat_. Mingyu’s pleads mean nothing, neither do the looks of fear in his eyes. Minghao thinks he’s too far gone to stop himself.

First bite, his teeth sinks in fast, almost too easily. Mingyu cries underneath, thrashing against his grip. Blood comes trickling down his throat, the flavour of human fills his mouth. He pauses for a moment, gaze settling onto Mingyu’s twitching form, life already seeping out of the artery in spurts. 

For a second, he thought Mingyu looked stunning covered in blood, almost beautiful.

Then he snaps awake, panting, gasping, before recoiling in horror when he realises Mingyu is still curled up next to him, in deep sleep. 

_He did not just dream about…_ Minghao pales, placing a hand on his chest. His can still feel the faint beats of his heart, though it’s beginning to wilt. His human body is still functional, the virus never affected him much, to the point where he thinks he has some sort of resistance inside him for it to progress so slowly. If not for his weakening heart, he’d probably be the cure everyone was looking for.

“…Minghao?” Mingyu finally catches on to the commotion. He pokes his head out from the blankets, eyes half-lidded. As reality weighs down on him, he sharpens up in a moment’s notice, “Did something happen?” 

He can’t see Mingyu in the dark, but feeling his presence and his warmth is good enough as comfort, “Just a nightmare…” 

Here he is, dreaming about things that won’t ever happen. But the thought always creeps up on him when he lets his mind wander— _what if he loses himself?_ And he’s supposed to be the confident one of the two, this is unreal. 

It’s like wet concrete when he dares settle his mind on this matter, he gets engulfed, wholly. 

“You’ll be fine, we’ll be okay.”

Minghao listens quietly, Mingyu’s voice has always been his lifeline.

* * *

It’s called _experimenting_ , Minghao’s certain, when Mingyu takes him by the wrist, and slowly guides his trembling fingers down the curves of his waist. The car is hot, the air is hot, everything feels so goddamn _hot_.

His hand sinks lower, eventually getting wedged between the fabric of Mingyu’s jeans and his boxer’s waistband. Minghao feels figuratively, and literally, trapped. 

“…Hao?”

Mingyu looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Minghao doesn’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but he feels so, so much hotter than before. _Damn it_. 

The summer sun is merciless, its piercing rays shoot through the moonroof’s pathetic defences, and down onto the back of Minghao’s neck. He wets his lips, and prays that he doesn’t pass out before anything important happens. 

“Is it too cramped for the both of us here?”

“Yeah,” Minghao answers breathlessly. Their breaths mingle, Mingyu is closer than he thought he’d _ever_ be.

The latter simply laughs and kisses him. 

_I’m probably going to die,_ Minghao thinks, adrenaline roaring in his ears. Mingyu’s trailing butterfly kisses down his jawline, while a hand leisurely begins to fumble with his buttons.

* * *

_It’s so, so hot._

Mingyu gives a low whimper, cheeks flushed, ears red. “Keep going,” he says, so softly that his whisper is barely audible. Minghao shifts his weight, the latter trembles, and garbled syllables spill out from his parted lips.

Minghao shuts his eyes, and buries his face in Mingyu’s neck. The sound of blood pumping fills his ears.

* * *

 

Minghao has always been a light sleeper, Mingyu’s used to hearing him wake up in the middle of the night, doing whatever whimsical things he does. Sometimes, he’d be working on that canvas painting he never got to finish (they had to leave it behind). Other times, the sound of running water rings from the kitchen, or it’d be the crinkling of candy wrappers. He’d wake up for a while, curious about what his artsy-fartsy roommate is up to, but he goes right back to sleep before he could accomplish anything, every time.

But tonight, the tides have turned. 

Minghao has drifted off to sleep in record time, he’s curled up in the back seat, the redness of his cheeks still unable to dissipate. Occasionally he’d give a grunt or two, before resuming his sleep — silent, and almost… corpse-like.

Mingyu crouches down, and gently brushes away the stray hairs that framed his cheeks. The sun has just begun to set, it takes along with it the colours of vibrant blue, and later, the rosy pink that lined the frayed edges of cotton candy clouds. He sits, and watches the sky shift. The cracked surface of his watch says 5:03, though he knows that time really doesn’t mean anything anymore. 

“It wasn’t me, for the love of god—” Minghao’s whispers are barely audible, but they’re there. He scrabbles at the seat’s leather, sinking his nails into the tanned hide. “Mingyu, believe me, I…” He tears at his shirt, but the fabric refuses to give way. The cuffs on Minghao’s shirt are held back with worn-out buttons, the assorted colour of threads that serves as the bond between plastic and cotton tells its long, and dreary tale in the matter of seconds. 

Mingyu begins rolling back the cloth, whilst casting worried glances at Minghao’s twitching body. _Are nightmares supposed to be this vivid?_

Then, he sees _it_. 

A bitter wave of dread washes over him, freezing him to his very bones. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh

**Author's Note:**

> stay tuned for the next chapter!  
> I'll be writing two more chapters: the middle, and the end. 
> 
> to be honest, i only planned to write this as a oneshot but i feel like i need to improve on writing chaptered works, so i'll try my best


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